THE DAVINCI DECEPTION - Tyndale Housefiles.tyndale.com/thpdata/FirstChapters/978-1-4143-0633-9.pdf · Constantine did and didn’t do. Church historians agree that next to the events

T Y N D A L E H O U S E P U B L I S H E R S , I N C . , C A R O L S T R E A M , I L L I N O I S

THE DA VINCI DECEPTION

ERWIN W. LUTZER

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The Da Vinci Deception

Copyright © 2004, 2006 by Erwin Lutzer. All rights reserved.

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ONECHRISTIANITY, A POLITICIAN, AND A CREED

We have good reason to be skeptical when a politi-

cian embraces religion—especially if religion helps

him achieve his political ambitions.

Consider the emperor Constantine, who in The

Da Vinci Code is said to have invented the deity of

Christ in order to consolidate his power. And, we’re

told, he also eliminated those books from the New

Testament that did not suit his political agenda.

In The Da Vinci Code, Brown asserts that by de-

claring the deity of Christ, Constantine solidified

his rule and earned the right to declare those who

disagreed with him as heretics. The emperor con-

vened the Council of Nicaea in AD 325 to ratify this

1

new doctrine that would give him the clout he

craved. Sir Leigh Teabing, the Holy Grail enthusi-

ast, explains to Sophie that at the council the dele-

gates agreed on the divinity of Jesus. Then he adds,

“Until that moment in history, Jesus was viewed by

His followers as a mortal prophet . . . a great and

powerful man, but a man nonetheless. A mortal.”

So Constantine “upgraded Jesus’ status almost

three centuries after Jesus’ death” for political rea-

sons.1 In the process, he secured male dominance

and the suppression of women. By forcing others

to accept his views, the emperor demonstrated his

power and was free to kill all who opposed him.

The second allegation in the novel is that Con-

stantine rejected other gospels that were favorable

to the divine feminine. To quote Teabing again,

“More than eighty gospels were considered for the

New Testament, and yet only a relative few were

chosen for inclusion—Matthew, Mark, Luke, and

John among them . . . . The Bible, as we know it to-

day, was collated by the pagan Roman emperor

Constantine the Great.”2

In other words, Constantine recognized a good

deal when he saw it and therefore called the coun-

cil to ensure male power and accept those canoni-

2

E RW I N W. L U T Z E R

cal documents that were favorable to his political

agenda. In the novel, Langdon says, “The Priory

believes that Constantine and his male successors

successfully converted the world from matriarchal

paganism to patriarchal Christianity by waging a

campaign of propaganda that demonized the sa-

cred feminine, obliterating the goddess from mod-

ern religion forever.”3 With this accomplishment,

the course of church history was solidified accord-

ing to Constantine’s liking. “Remember it was all

about power,” we are told.

Let’s begin to investigate these claims. In this

chapter we’ll separate fact from fiction, look into

the ancient records, and discover exactly what

Constantine did and didn’t do.

Church historians agree that next to the events

in the New Testament, the most important event

in the history of Christianity is the conversion of

Emperor Constantine to Christianity in AD 312. In

brief, here’s the story: Constantine’s troops were

positioned at the Milvian Bridge just outside of

Rome, where they were preparing to overthrow the

Roman emperor Maxentius. A victory would, in ef-

fect, make Constantine the sole ruler of the em-

pire. But the night before the battle, Constantine

3

C H R I S T I A N I T Y, A P O L I T I C I A N , A N D A C R E E D

saw a vision that changed his life and the history of

the church.

In the words of Eusebius of Caesarea, who was

both a historian and a confidant of Constantine,

the emperor was praying to a pagan god when “he

saw with his own eyes the trophy of a cross in the

light of the heavens, above the sun and an inscrip-

tion, Conquer By This attached to it. . . . Then in his

sleep the Christ of God appeared to him with the

sign which he had seen in the heavens, and com-

manded him to make a likeness of this sign which

he had seen in the heavens, and to use it as a safe-

guard in all engagements with his enemies.”4

To make a long story short, Constantine

crossed over the bridge and won the battle, fight-

ing under the banner of the Christian cross. Later

he issued the Edict of Milan, decreeing that Chris-

tians were no longer to be persecuted. And now, al-

though a politician, he took leadership in the

doctrinal disputes that were disrupting the unity

in his empire.

Let’s travel back to Nicaea (modern-day Iznik

in Turkey, about 125 miles from modern-day

Istanbul) to find out what happened there 1,700

years ago.

4


WELCOME TO THE COUNCILThose of us reared in a country where religion is

largely private and where diversity is gladly toler-

ated might find it difficult to believe that in the

early fourth century, doctrinal disputes were tear-

ing Constantine’s empire apart. It is said that if you

bought a loaf of bread in the marketplace of Con-

stantinople, you might be asked whether you be-

lieve that God the Son was begotten or unbegotten

and if you asked about the quality of the bread you

might be told that the Father is greater and the Son

is less.

Adding fuel to these disagreements was a man

named Arius, who was gaining a wide following by

teaching that Christ was not fully God but a cre-

ated god of sorts. He believed that Christ was

more than a man but less than God. Arius was a

great communicator, and because he put his doc-

trinal ideas into musical jingles, his ideas became

widely accepted. Although many church bishops

declared him a heretic, the disputes nonetheless

continued. Constantine called the first ecumeni-

cal council at Nicaea, hoping to suppress dissent

and unify Christianity. In fact, the emperor even

paid the expenses of the bishops who gathered.

5


Constantine did not care about the finer points

of theology, so practically any creed would have

satisfied him—as long as it would unify his sub-

jects. As one historian has said, “Christianity be-

came both a way to God and a way to unite the

empire.”5 He gave the opening speech himself, tell-

ing the delegates that doctrinal disunity was

worse than war.

This intrusion of a politician into the doctrines

and procedures of the church was resented by

some of the delegates, but welcomed by others.

For those who had gone through a period of bitter

persecution, this conference, carried on under the

imperial banner, was heaven on earth.

THE GREAT DEBATE

More than three hundred bishops met at Nicaea

to settle disputes about Christology—that is, the

doctrine of Christ. When Constantine finished

his opening speech, the proceedings began.

Overwhelmingly, the council declared Arius a

heretic. Though Arius was given an opportunity

to defend his views, the delegates recognized that

if Christ was not fully God, then God was not the

Redeemer of mankind. To say that Christ was cre-

6


ated was to deny the clear teaching of Scripture:

“For by him all things were created: things in

heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether

thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all

things were created by him and for him”

(Colossians 1:16). Clearly, if he created all things,

he most assuredly could not have been created

himself! To this passage many others that teach

the deity of Christ were added, both from the Gos-

pels and the Epistles (John 1:1; Romans 9:5;

Hebrews 1:8; etc.).

Affirming the divinity of Jesus, the delegates

turned their attention to the question of how he

related to the Father. Eusebius the historian pre-

sented his view, claiming that Jesus had a nature

that was similar to that of God the Father.

Present, but not invited to the actual proceed-

ings, was the theologian Athanasius, who believed

that even to say that Christ is similar to God the Fa-

ther is to miss the full biblical teaching about

Christ’s divinity. His argument that Christ could

only be God in the fullest sense if his nature was the

same as that of the Father was expressed by his rep-

resentative, Marcellus, a bishop from Asia Minor in

the proceedings. Constantine, seeing that the

7


debate was going in Athanasius’s favor, accepted

the suggestion of a scholarly bishop and advised

the delegates to use the Greek word homoousion,

which means “one and the same.” In other words,

Jesus had the very same nature as the Father.

The council agreed, and today we have the fa-

mous Nicene Creed. As anyone who has ever

quoted the creed knows, Jesus Christ is declared to

be “Light of Light, very God of very God; begotten,

not made, being of one substance with the Father, by

whom all things were made” (italics added). There

can be no question that the delegates affirmed

that Christ was deity in the fullest sense.

Why should we be interested in this debate?

Some critics have been amused that the Council

of Nicaea split over one “iota.” The difference be-

tween the Greek words for similar and same is but

one letter of the alphabet: the letter i. Some argue

that it’s just like theologians to split hairs, arguing

over minutiae that have little to do with the real

world. How much better to help the poor or get in-

volved in the politics of the day!

But William E. Hordern tells a story that illus-

trates how a single letter or comma can change the

meaning of a message. Back in the days when mes-

8


sages were sent by telegraph there was a code for

each punctuation mark. A woman touring Europe

cabled her husband to ask whether she could buy a

beautiful bracelet for $75,000. The husband sent

this message back: “No, price too high.” The cable

operator, in transmitting the message, missed the

signal for the comma. The woman received the mes-

sage “No price too high.” She bought the bracelet;

the husband sued the company and won! After

that, people using Morse code spelled out all punc-

tuation. Clearly, a comma or an “iota” can make a

big difference when communicating a message!6

Although the Council of Nicaea was divided

over the Greek words similar and same, the issue was

incredibly important. Even if Christ were the high-

est and most noble creature of God’s creation, God

would then be only indirectly involved in the salva-

tion of man. As one historian has said, Athanasius

realized that “only if Christ is God, without qualifi-

cation, has God entered humanity, and only then

have fellowship with God, the forgiveness of sins,

the truth of God, and immortality been certainly

brought to men.”7

In The Da Vinci Code, we read that the doctrine of

Christ’s deity passed by a “relatively close vote.”

9


That is fiction, since only five out of more than

three hundred bishops (the number is actually be-

lieved to have been 318) protested the creed. In

fact, in the end, only two refused to sign it. The

outcome was not exactly a cliff-hanger.

That’s not to say that the Council of Nicaea

ended all the disputes. Arianism continued to

have its adherents, and subsequent emperors

sided with whichever view suited them at the time.

But from this point on, Christian orthodoxy

maintained that Jesus was “God of very God.”

Whether Constantine was a genuine convert to

Christianity is a matter of debate. We do know

that he had been a worshipper of the sun god be-

fore his “conversion,” and it appears that he car-

ried on such worship for the rest of his life. He is

even credited with standardizing Christian wor-

ship by mandating Sunday as the official day of

worship. There is no doubt that he used Chris-

tianity to further his own political ends.

But did he invent the divinity of Jesus? Before

the council, was Christ believed to be just a re-

markable man? There is not a single shred of his-

torical evidence for such a notion. Not only was

Christ’s deity the consensus of the delegates, but

10


as can easily be shown, this doctrine was held by

the church centuries before the council met.

Contrary to Teabing’s claim in The Da Vinci

Code, many believed that Christ was more than a

“mortal prophet” before the council met in AD

325. We must take a moment to read the writings

of the apostolic fathers, those who knew the apos-

tles and were taught by them. Then we can investi-

gate writings of the second- and third-generation

leaders, all affirming in their own way the divinity

of Jesus.

11


DID EMPEROR CONSTANTINE REINVENTCHRISTIANITY FOR HIS OWN PURPOSES?

Doctrinal disputes were tearing Constantine’s

empire apart, so at the urging of bishops, he called

the Council of Nicaea that affirmed that Christ was

“God of very God.” Constantine cared little about

the finer points of theology, so practically any creed

would have satisfied him—as long as it would unify

his subjects. But did he invent the divinity of Jesus?

There is not a shred of historical evidence for such a

notion. As can easily be shown in the writings of

early church fathers, this doctrine was held by the

church centuries before the council of Nicaea met in

325.

THE CHURCH FATHERSLet me introduce you to someone who longed to

die for Jesus. That was the attitude of Ignatius, the

bishop of Antioch in Syria. In AD 110, he wrote a

series of letters to several churches while on his

way to martyrdom in Rome. The centerpiece of his

doctrine was his conviction that Christ is God In-

carnate. “There is One God who manifests himself

through Jesus Christ his son.”8 Another source

elaborates further: Ignatius speaks of Jesus as

“Son of Mary and Son of God . . . Jesus Christ our

Lord,” calling Jesus “God Incarnate.” In fact, he re-

fers to him as “Christ God.”9 Remember, he wrote

this a full two hundred years before the Council of

Nicaea!

Other examples include the following:

• Polycarp of Smyrna, a disciple of the apostle John,sent a letter to the church at Philippi in about AD 112–118. In it, he assumes that those to whom it isaddressed acknowledge the divinity of Jesus, hisexaltation to heaven, and his subsequent glorification.Polycarp was martyred in about AD 160 and gavetestimony of his faith in the presence of hisexecutioners.10

12


• Justin Martyr was born in Palestine and was impressedwith the ability of Christians to face death heroically.When he heard the gospel, he converted to Christianityand became a defender of the faith he loved. He saidChrist was “the son and the apostle of God the Fatherand master of all.”11 He was born about AD 100 andmartyred in AD 165.

• Irenaeus became the bishop of Lyons in AD 177.He spent much of his life combating the heresy ofGnosticism that we will examine in the next chapter.Speaking of passages such as John 1:1, he wrotethat “all distinctions between the Father and the Sonvanish, for the one God made all things through Hisword.”12

To this list could be added teachers like Tertullian

(150–212), who one hundred years before

Constantine advocated a fully divine and fully hu-

man Christ. Dozens of other writings from the

early centuries of Christianity prove that the early

church affirmed the deity of Jesus. Their convic-

tions were rooted in the New Testament Scriptures

that were already accepted as authoritative by the

church. For the two and a half centuries before

Nicaea, the nearly universal opinion of the church

13


was that Christ was divine, just as the Scriptures

taught.

THE WITNESS OF THE MARTYRSWe find more evidence that the divinity of Christ

was not Constantine’s idea when we remind our-

selves of the persecutions in Rome. If we had be-

longed to a small congregation in Rome in the

second or third century, we might have heard an an-

nouncement like this: “The emperor [Caesar Au-

gustus] has issued a new order, requiring all Roman

subjects to attend the religious/political ceremony

designed to unify the nation and revive lagging pa-

triotism within the empire.” The Romans believed

that if one had a god above Caesar, that person

could not be trusted at a time of national emer-

gency—a war, for instance. All good citizens were

commanded to “worship the spirit of Rome and the

genius of the emperor,” as the edict read. Specifi-

cally, this ceremony involved the burning of incense

and saying simply, “Caesar is Lord.”

Sometimes persecution was directly targeted

against those who worshipped Jesus. But for the

most part, Caesar did not care what god a person

worshipped. After one made the yearly obligatory

14


confession that Caesar was Lord, that person was

free to worship whatever god he or she wished—in-

cluding Jesus. Christian congregations—and there

were many of them—had to make a tough choice:

They either complied as citizens or faced cruel ret-

ribution. Many of the Christians had watched as

their relatives and friends were thrown to wild

beasts or killed by gladiators for refusing to con-

fess Caesar’s lordship.

If Jesus were seen as one option among many,

Christians could give allegiance to other expres-

sions of the divine. Why not find common ground

with the central unity of all religions? Not only

would this have promoted harmony, but also the

common good of the state. So the choice, strictly

speaking, was not whether the Christians would

worship Christ or Caesar but whether they would

worship Christ and Caesar.

If you ever have the opportunity to visit Rome,

don’t miss the Pantheon, one of the most ancient

and beautiful buildings still standing today, com-

pleted in AD 126. It is a masterpiece of perfection

with a grand hemispherical dome. This was the

Roman “temple of the gods,” the place where all

the various gods of ancient Rome were housed.

15


Filled with statues and artifacts, it is here that

Rome’s diverse religious worship was localized.

Interestingly, the pagans saw no conflict be-

tween emperor worship and the worship of their

own gods. Paganism, both ancient and modern,

has always been tolerant of other finite gods. After

all, if your god is not a supreme deity, then indeed

you have little choice but to make room for other

gods and celebrate the splendor of diversity.

But the Christians understood something very

clearly: If Christ was God—and they believed he

was—indeed, if he was “God of very God,” then

they could not worship him and others. Thus,

while some bowed to Caesar in order to save their

life and their family, many of them—thousands of

them—were willing to defy the political authori-

ties and pay dearly for their commitment.

After an intense time of persecution for those

who affirmed the divinity of Jesus, the unexpected

happened. The emperor decided that the persecu-

tion of Christians should end. To make good on his

word, he commissioned that a statue of Jesus be put

in the Pantheon as an expression of goodwill and

proof that Jesus was now regarded as a legitimate

god, along with all the rest. But the Christians said,

16


in effect, “Thanks, but no thanks.” They under-

stood that the divinity of Jesus meant that he could

not be put on the same shelf as the pagan gods.

My point is simply that centuries before Con-

stantine, these early Christians had already proved

that they believed that Jesus was divine. And they

paid for their convictions with reprisals, harass-

ment, and often death. The Da Vinci Code’s asser-

tion that Constantine “upgraded Jesus’ status”

from man to God is pure fiction.

No wonder the mark of a heretic in New Testa-

ment times was someone who denied the Incarna-

tion. “Every spirit that acknowledges that Jesus

Christ has come in the flesh is from God, but

every spirit that does not acknowledge Jesus is not

from God” (1 John 4:2-3). The conviction that, in

17


HOW CLOSE WAS THE VOTE WHEN THECOUNCIL OF NICAEA DEVELOPED THEIRCREED ABOUT JESUS’ DIVINITY?

In The Da Vinci Code, we read that the doctrine of

Christ’s deity passed by a “relatively close vote.”

That is fiction, since only five out of more than three

hundred bishops protested the creed. In the end,

only two refused to sign it. The outcome was not

exactly a cliff-hanger.

Christ, God became man was the heart of the early

Christian faith.

THE COUNCIL OF NICAEA ANDTHE NEW TESTAMENT CANONThe Da Vinci Code claims—as do many occult writ-

ings—that Constantine and his delegates decided

to eliminate books from the New Testament that

were unfavorable to their theology of male rule

and their commitment to sexual repression. We’ve

already quoted Sir Leigh Teabing as saying that

more than eighty gospels were considered for the

New Testament and that the Bible as we know it

today was collated by Constantine.

I read a similar view in The Templar Revelation, a

book that dovetails with The Da Vinci Code, sup-

posedly giving historical plausibility to these

events. The authors allege: “In our opinion, the

Catholic Church never wanted its members to

know about the true relationship between Jesus

and Mary, which is why the Gnostic Gospels were

not included in the New Testament and why most

Christians do not even know they exist. The Coun-

cil of Nicaea, when it rejected the many Gnostic

Gospels and voted to include only Matthew,

18


Mark, Luke and John in the New Testament, had

no divine mandate for this major act of censor-

ship. They acted out of self-preservation, for by

that time—the fourth century—the power of the

Magdalene and her followers was already too

widespread for the patriarchy to cope with.”13

We’ll look closer at matters regarding the for-

mation of the canon and the life of Mary Magda-

lene later in this book. But for now, consider this:

Historical works on Nicaea give no evidence that

Constantine and the delegates even discussed the

Gnostic Gospels or anything that pertained to the

canon. Try as I might, I have not found a single line

in the documents about Nicaea that records a dis-

cussion about what books should or should not be

in the New Testament. Practically everything we

know about what happened at Nicaea comes from

the historian Eusebius, and neither he nor anyone

else gives a hint that such matters were discussed.

Twenty rulings were issued at Nicaea, and the con-

tents of all of them are still in existence; not one of

them refers to issues regarding the canon.

Thankfully, I was able to track down the source

of the error. Baron D’Holbach in Ecce Homo writes,

“The question of authentic and spurious gospels

19


was not discussed at the first Nicene Council. The

anecdote is fictitious.”14 D’Holbach traces the fic-

tion to Voltaire, but further research reveals an

even earlier source of the rumor.

An anonymous document called Vetus Synodicon,

written in about AD 887, devotes a chapter to each

of the ecumenical councils held until that time.

However, the compiler adds details not found in the

writings of historians. As for his account of Nicaea,

he writes that the council dealt with matters of the

divinity of Jesus, the Trinity, and the canon. He

writes, “The canonical and apocryphal books it dis-

tinguished in the following manner: in the house of

God the books were placed down by the holy altar;

then the council asked the Lord in prayer that the

inspired works be found on top and—as in fact hap-

pened. . . .”15 That, quite obviously, is the stuff of leg-

end. No primary documents pertaining to Nicaea

make reference to such a procedure.

Even if this story were true, it would still not

prove the claim that the council rejected certain

books of the New Testament because they pro-

moted feminism or the notion that Mary Magda-

lene was married to Jesus. These matters simply

did not come up for discussion.

20


Speaking of legends, another claims that af-

ter the two bishops who did not sign the Nicene

Creed died, the church fathers, not willing to alter

the miraculous number of 318 (apparently the

number of delegates present), placed the creed

sans their signature in their tombs overnight,

“whereupon miraculously their signatures were

also added.”16 These kinds of superstitions flour-

ished through medieval times.

Later, we’ll learn that Constantine did ask that

21


DID THE COUNCIL OF NICAEA INVENT ORCREATE THE MODERN NEW TESTAMENT?

Historical works on Nicaea give no evidence that

Constantine and the delegates discussed what

books should be in the canon. Twenty rulings

were issued at Nicaea; not one of them refers to

issues regarding which books were authoritative.

Legends developed in the ninth century attached

all kinds of fictitious stories to the historical

accounts of the church councils. Among them

was the notion that Constantine and the delegates

censored the documents and chose those they

wanted for their own purposes. No primary docu-

ments pertaining to Nicaea support this idea.

fifty Bibles be copied for the churches of Constan-

tinople. But The Da Vinci Code’s assertion that

Constantine tampered with the Scriptures or ex-

cluded certain books is bogus. This is a reminder

that legends are often confused with facts in such

a way that the legends appear to replace the facts.

When one presents history without consulting

the sources, anything the mind can imagine can

be written. As fabrications go, The Da Vinci Code is

right up there with Elvis sightings.

HISTORY REPEATS ITSELFWe’ve learned that the official Roman govern-

ment abhorred the exclusivism of Christianity,

the idea that Christ is the only way to God. The

Romans bristled at the very suggestion that Christ

stood above other gods—indeed, claiming that no

other gods even existed. To them, it was both po-

litically and religiously intolerable for Christians

to insist that there was only one legitimate Re-

deemer who was willing to come to the aid of

mankind. They were tolerant of everyone except

those who were intolerant.

In the next chapter we will see that another

powerful attack against the Christian faith came

22


not from the political establishment but from re-

ligious zealots who wanted to make Christianity

doctrinally diverse. Although Gnosticism was a re-

ligious and not a political movement, it had the

same motivation as the Roman government—it

could not tolerate the exclusive claims made by

Jesus Christ. Gnostics cynically used the Christian

faith as it suited them rather than accepting what

they regarded as the narrow doctrines taught by

the early church.

As we investigate Gnosticism, we will see that it

bears striking similarities to the modern-day

quest for spirituality. Gnosticism invites its fol-

lowers to divide loyalties between Jesus and lesser

competing deities. Gnosticism says our real need

is not for forgiveness but for self-enlightenment.

Jesus, claim the Gnostics, can help us, but he is not

necessary to our quest for salvation.

Gnosticism rejects the conclusion of Nicaea,

unless of course, we are all seen as divine. Like the

New Agers of today, Gnostics believed that each

person can encounter God in his own way. Little

wonder Paul wrote, “For the time will come when

men will not put up with sound doctrine. Instead,

to suit their own desires, they will gather around

23


them a great number of teachers to say what their

itching ears want to hear” (2 Timothy 4:3).

Join me as we investigate the Gnostic docu-

ments.

24


Documents

THE DAVINCI DECEPTION - Tyndale Housefiles.tyndale.com/thpdata/FirstChapters/978-1-4143-0633-9.pdf · Constantine did and didn’t do. Church historians agree that next to the events